“You worthless little pup!” he snarls, and stomps a step closer. I almost jerk back, away from him, but Garvey’s instant reaction gives me something more to worry about. Brennan stops short again, as I pull Garvey back.

“What the fuck are you doing with that dog?” he snarls. It’s hard to tell, but I’m pretty sure his eyes aren’t on me.

I almost want to smile.

“Brennan . . . go inside and have some dinner. I’m too worn out to deal with your shit, right now.”

“My shit? My shit? Faolan gave you the simplest little job to do and you’ve managed to fuck it up. At every turn! First bringing that Keely twit—and nearly getting us fucked up—and now this!

“You always were worthless! Now get the fuck up and let’s go!”

Garvey strains away from my hand again, and the pain in my head needles me, like the incessant whine of a mosquito . . . like a screaming baby . . . like a jackhammer. I rub my neck harder, but the pain is deeper than I can reach.

A vise starts to tighten, somewhere inside, deep. I can feel it. My breathing grows shallow, tight, and all the hairs on my head stand. The throbbing in my skull grows louder, heavier.

A worthless little pup.

A worthless little pup.

So, nothing’s changed.

You know what?

Fuck ‘im.

“You seem to have forgotten who’s in charge here,” I growl, through my teeth, as the anger leaps up into my brain. I open my eyes again and glare up at him. “So, unless you’re going to do something about it, asshole”—the pain in my head flares with the tension in my face, flares into something screaming . . . violent . . . consuming. I want to hit something. I want to hit something. I want to hit something—“go, the fuck inside and leave me the FUCK alone!”

I push to my feet, still holding Garvey, but he wants me to let him go, and I’m starting to want to let him.

“If Faolan were here—” he snarls, but I cut him off.

“If Faolan were here? If Faolan were here?”

Was that fear in his voice? The thought makes me giddy.

I pull Garvey back behind me and let him go. He stays put, at my side, but I can feel him, still taut. Ready to back my play. I almost smile, but Brennan’s impotent little snarl drives me on. I stalk a step toward him. Garvey follows, growling.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what Faolan would do if he were here.”—Another step.—“He’s not here. I am.”—And another.—“I’m in charge. Me. And this is my call.”

I reach him, and I must really be drunk, because I jab a finger at him, into his chest. Hard.

“So do something about it,” I yell, into his face, “or shut the fuck up!”

So close, I can feel the tension in him. He is shaking with it. The fucker so wants to take me. He so wants to try. He wants to beat me to a bloody pulp.

But he won’t. He won’t! Because he’s afraid of being on the hook for what happens!

I feel the smile spreading on my face. I’m daring him to do something. I’m fucking daring him.

And if he does?

Fuck him! Let him try. Come on, Brennan. Fucking try.

You stupid son of a bitch. It’ll be fun to wrap my hands around your neck.

Hit me. See if I fucking care.

Fucking pup, my ass. You might win, asshole, but you won’t like the price.

Faolan can take his leash and shove it.

I lean in closer. Maybe he’s right—maybe I am out of my mind. But he’s not getting the option, this time. We decide this, right fucking here, right fucking now.

Thanks, Katrin. I’m pretty happy with this one, too. Wrote a critique for another writer over the weekend — who also writes first person, present tense — and it really helped me sort out what’s been bugging me about Tiergan’s voice, lately. Hopefully, I won’t have forgotten all of it by next episode.

It’s amazing how all-consuming, screw-the-consequences ANGRY Tiergan can get. I can see why Brennan would back down. “Maniacal” was perhaps the most apt way to put it — so crazy you don’t know what he’d do next, a true wild card.

I feel sorry for anyone that actually tries to stand before Tiergan once he really goes off.

One thing — you wrote “vice” when you meant “vise” — for one thing, you’re Canadian and we use the British spelling. For another, the characters seem like they’re somewhere in the UK, so it works for them too. “Vice” for the tool is an American thing, otherwise “vices” are sins.